Wishes: Never Again
by Miss Kayl
Summary: BtVSHP crossover. Answer to challenge from Kits and Madsdogs on OADNT. Neville finds out how weird making a wish can be--especially if a vengeance demon is around.


A/N: Response to Kits and Madsdogs Challenge # 1 on OADNT. 

Set after Year 5 for Harry Potter, Season 6 for BtVS, season 3 for Angel. Most definitely AU.

~*~

Wishes….Never Again

~*~

Neville Longbottom sat gloomily in his room, looking at his _mimbulus mimbletonia _and thinking about the last few weeks of school, about Harry, and the trip to the Ministry of Magic. He had healed from his injuries, but what had happened would not leave his mind. 

He scowled at the plant. He felt useless. He knew Harry was depressed because of whatever had happened to that man with the black hair, and he didn't feel that he had been able to help much during that foray into the Death Eater trap. 

"I hate being useless," he muttered. "I wish I weren't."

Unknown to the young wizard, a vengeance demon by the name of Halfrek had been drawn by his pain and now stood outside his window with a smile on her face. "Done," she whispered. 

~*~

"Neville, Neville, wake up," a voice said urgently. 

"Go 'way," Neville grumbled, burying his head in his pillow. 

"Neville, wake up. Come on, you need to get ready for your gig," the voice said exasperatedly. 

That woke Neville up, and his head poked out from under his covers. "I have to what?"

The young woman standing by his bed looked exasperated to the extreme. "On your feet Longbottom. Lorne says everyone's ready for you to sing."

Neville blinked at her several times, then actually looked around. He was not in his room at his Gran's house. He was in a strange room—and what kind of accent did this woman have. "Hang on—I'm in America!"

"Good job," the woman snorted. "You've been in America for the last week on tour. Are you taking drugs or something? Do wizards take drugs?"

Neville gaped at her. 

"Get dressed," she said and left. 

Neville got out of bed, looking around. Where in the name of Merlin was he? He looked out the window and blinked. Palm trees, a beach—was he in Hawaii or something? 

Someone knocked on the door. "Nev, you decent?"

Nev? No one had ever called him Nev. 

"Neville, come on. We're gonna be late."

Neville quickly found a robe—silver and covered in stars and moons, a robe to make Dumbledore proud—grabbed his wand from where it lay on his night-table, and opened the door. 

A young man stood there, and he grinned. "Took you long enough. Come on, Lorne wants to hear our group before we play tonight. It was really nice of him to let us play—it's usually a karaoke bar—but you've gotten so famous so fast that the demon community wanted to hear you."

"D-demons?" Neville stumbled over his robes. "Uh…you mean m-metaphorical demons, right?"

The man laughed. "No, I mean real demons. But don't worry. Lorne says Caritas is a non-violent zone."

"Oh good," Neville squeaked. 

They got in one of those muggle cars and drove to a building that boasted a sign proclaiming it as Caritas and got out and went in. 

A green guy with red horns and a really good taste in clothes met them at the door. "Mr. Longbottom, welcome to Caritas. I'm Lorne, I own the place. It's really an honor meeting you."

"Uh…you too," Neville said dazedly. Lorne was a demon. How did he survive in the muggle world without spells?

"So, maybe we could hear one of your numbers?" Lorne said with a smile. 

Neville glanced at the man he had come with, who nodded eagerly, and shrugged, still confused. "I-I guess."

"Great!" Lorne grinned. "Stage is all yours."

Neville followed the man whose name he had yet to get onto the stage, where he was handed a mike. Hang on—how did he know what a mike was? He was a wizard—he had never been in the muggle world. 

But when the mike was put in his hand, he felt something shift. He felt more confident, like he owned the world. He grinned. 

The man had an electric guitar and another man who had shown up was seated at a set of drums. The guitar started and Neville began to sing. 

~*~

"Mustard isn't a bird, butter isn't an insect, mayonnaise isn't a cat, but I know love is love, and that's that."

The crowd cheered when the song ended, and Neville grinned up on stage. This was great. Everyone loved him. He raised his arm and said, "That's it everybody. Goodnight."

He turned and walked off the stage amid cheers and calls for an encore. When he reached the edge, he saw the last two people he would expect to see here—one with greasy black hair and one with slicked back blond. 

"You ask him," Draco Malfoy hissed. 

"No, you can ask him," Severus Snape said, trying not to be obvious about what he was doing. 

"Yeah right. You ask him. You're a teacher—he has to listen to you."

Snape looked down his hooked nose at the student of Slytherin House. "No, you are the student and I am ordering you to ask him, unless you would like detention for the first month of the next school year."

"I'm sure my father would not be pleased with that," Malfoy sneered. 

"Your father is not here," Snape said smugly. 

"Would you like to bet on that Professor?"

"Severus," the oily voice of Lucius Malfoy made Snape grit his teeth. "Lucius."

"We were just discussing asking Neville for his autograph," Malfoy said. "Professor Snape is scared."

Neville stumbled over the last step at that. They were what? Hoo boy. He hurried past them and to the bar, where he skidded to a stop. "_Hermione_! Harry? Ron?"

"Hey Neville," Ron said cheerfully. 

Hermione was fussing with her hair, complaining, "It won't lie flat—it keeps bushing out! Oh—hi Neville…Neville! Noooo! You can't see me like this!" She bolted from the bar. Neville blinked after her then turned to look at Harry and Ron. "So…er, Harry, how are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Harry said cheerfully. "You were really good tonight. Better than the Weird Sisters."

"Definitely better than the Weird Sisters," Ron said fervently. 

"Er, yeah. Um…"

"Willow! Come on, I want an autograph! He is so cute! Like a puppy dog or something."

Neville turned with some trepidation to see a woman with red hair holding back a teenage girl with light brown, saying, "You can't mob the poor boy Dawn. He's got enough people trying to get a piece of him."

"Meanie!" Dawn crossed her arms with a hmph and stuck her tongue out. Willow just shook her head with an exasperated sigh as a woman with dark blond hair walked up saying, "Dawn, don't stick out your tongue, unless of course you want it cursed off."

The tongue retreated quickly as the red head and the blond exchanged a kiss. Neville blinked at them. Cursed off—they must be witches. 

"Okay, fine then," Dawn grumped. "Can we stop for ice cream on the way home then?"

"Sure, why not," the blond haired witch agreed. 

Neville blinked several times, gave his head a shake, and muttered, "I wanna go home I think. This is just too surreal."

The red head heard that and gave him a curious look. "What do you mean?"

"This has got to be a spell," Neville said, his sweeping arm taking in the demon bar, which was now doing karaoke. "I don't remember casting one, but—" He sucked in a breath. "—but I wished I wasn't useless."

"Wishing can be dangerous," Willow said with a frown. "Do you remember seeing anybody around?"

Neville shook his head. 

"Huh." Willow glanced at Tara. "Maybe we should talk to Anya. She would love to meet Neville anyways." She explained to Neville, "The only reason she's not here is because it would have required closing down shop for a day."

"Oh…"

"So come on."

~*~

A few hours later, they pulled up next to an apartment complex and got out and went in and up to a door. Willow rang the doorbell. A young man answered it. "Hey Will, Tara, Dawnster, strange per—oh my God, it's Neville Longbottom!"

A young woman with blond hair ran up. "Xander, did you say—ooh!" she squealed. 

Dawn winced and covered her ears, muttering, "And they said I squeal too much."

"Neville's got a bit of a problem," Willow explained as they entered. "He made a wish."

"A wish?" Anya's eyes narrowed in concentration. "What kind of a wish."

"That I wasn't useless anymore," Neville said honestly. 

Anya snorted. "Right."

"I was," Neville said. "Am…whatever. I want to go back to—wherever it was I came from."

"Well if it was a vengeance demon, you have to get her to undo the spell," Anya said. "There aren't that many that deal with wizards, since wizards can handle their own problems usually. I did, of course, and so did—_Halfrek! I'll bet you it was her. He's a child—sort of—and that's her little fixation. Daddy issues and all."_

"Who's Halfrek?" Xander asked. 

"A friend from my demon days," Anya said primly. "Now be quiet so I can call her."

The group went silent and Anya shouted, "Hallie! Get your ass down here!"

"Nice incantation," Xander said weakly. 

A puff of smoke and there stood a vengeance demon in full glory. Neville blinked. He had been doing that a lot lately he realized. 

"What is it Anyanka?" Halfrek asked. 

"Did you answer a wish from Neville?"

"Ah yes, Longbottom." Halfrek smiled. "Enjoying your wish?"

"Uh…not particularly, no," Neville said tentatively. "Could—could you just return it to the way it was?"

"Mmmm….no." Halfrek smiled. 

Neville's face fell. "But…"

"Hallie," Anya sighed. "Please? You know I never say please, but if I don't try then Xander won't be happy because Willow won't be happy, and then we won't have lots of sex."

Neville stared at Anya. Xander turned pink. Willow and Tara exchanged glances, and Dawn snorted. 

Halfrek eyed Xander, then Willow, then let out a huff. "Fine, fine, destroy all of my work Anyanka. But I will get my revenge. The spell is lifted!"

~*~

Neville jerked awake and looked around his room in his Gran's house with relief. "Wow, that was a really weird dream," he muttered. "But no more wishes. Ever, ever, again."

A/N: So wha'd ya think? Any comments can be sent to kaylsraven@yahoo.com It's not my best work, but I think it's cute. 


End file.
